Anything is Possible
by Lonestarr
Summary: Okay, so Ron was unable to stop Gill that one time...
1. Long Night at Wannaweep

Chapter 1 - Long Night at Wannaweep

(...Cabin 13...Wednesday night...)

"He's out on the lake? _My _lake! How dumb can he be!"

As far as at least 3/4 of the Middleton cheer squad was concerned...they could tell him stories. But given the look on Gill's face - one that combined anger with a sort of wicked elation - story time would have to wait.

He takes off toward the lake, leaving the squad in the remains of Ron's old cabin, bound up in muck...

Wait? 'remains'? 'muck'? Perhaps it would be best to offer up an explanation. Otherwise, what's the point?

The squad was on its way to a competition when the tires on their bus blew out. They ended up stranded at Camp Wannaweep. The girls grew steadily more irritated with Ron's horrible memories. A creature watching from the bushes captured the girls. To Ron's surprise, the culprit turned out to be a former camper named Gil (no, actually, that should be Gill!). Ron refused to swim in the lake (polluted by toxic runoff from science camp), whereas Gil spent lots of time in the water. Ron had opted instead for Gil's arts and crafts time. Gill is not very happy with Ron about the situation.

Everybody got that? Okay...

Given the situation, there was a lot of despair in the cabin.

Maggie tries to stretch, but has some trouble. "_Oh, man. Between cheerleading, yearbook, debate club and band practice, I never have time for myself, and now this_."

Marcella sighs deeply. "_Why does my family have to be so demanding? 'You have to stay home and baby-sit, Marcella.' 'Those dishes won't wash themselves, Marcella.' I've got five siblings! It'd be so nice to disappear, sometimes_."

The attention of the girls turns toward Mr. Barkin, who had been attacked earlier. Stuck to a tree, the teacher had already started to mutate, and looked to be changing further.

"I'm getting gills!" Sure enough, little pockets had developed on his neck.

Bonnie couldn't help but shudder. "_I hope Stoppable makes it back safe. I know I'm not the best person in the world, but wringing the neck of a dead man? Even _I_ have my limits_."

Hope moans a bit. "_Is this how I want to be remembered? As just some cheerleader in high school? Why do I have to feel so...weak?_"

Crystal develops a slight twitch. "_My boyfriend never communicates with me. It's like I'd have to read his mind to get anything out of him. And my nose itches. This better not be part of the mutation_."

Tara gazes toward the sky. "_Oh, Ron. You have to make it back safe. I never got to tell you that I li...I luh...uhhhh. This wouldn't be so hard if I was more forward_."

Liz lets out a low grunt. "_Can't believe this. I have, like, three tests tomorrow and I haven't studied for one. What's the point? I'd probably fail them, anyway_."

Kim looks at the chaos surrounding her. "_How could this have happened? Maybe I don't always know what's best. I should've listened to Ron_."

Mr. Barkin struggles to breathe; lung-wise, he was doing fine, but there was the matter of the gills. _"Oh, if they had told me when I started there'd be days like this..."_

The squad members, even Kim, couldn't help but feel downtrodden; on top of being duped into getting stuck at an abandoned camp where there was no cheerleading competition, their lives were in the hands of one man:

(...Lake Wannaweep...minutes later...)

Ron had found a speedboat. One would think that he could make a getaway. Fortunately, he was way too good a person for that. It was his hope that he could find some help.

The motor of the craft roared through the tranquil night air...at least for a while. The boat slows to a stop in the middle of the water. The teenager looks to the motor then to Rufus.

"Rufus, didn't you check to see if we had enough gas?"

The naked mole rat could only gibber nervously and offer a feeble "Uh-oh."

Bubbles rise from the port side of the boat. A sudden noise at the prow of the ship captures their attention. Something pops up from the lake. It's Gill!

"Hey, Ron. It's free swim!" The eyes of the former campers meet, determination present in both.

"You're on!", states Ron, with no small amount of confidence.

Gill tries to board, but Ron takes a breath and jumps into the water. Disgust registers on his freckled face. He surfaces and exhales.

"Okay, that water is _way_ too funky!"

The creature surfaces. "You think?" He wades around Ron, almost like he was taunting him. "You can't win, Ronnie. This is _my_ element!" Gill leaps at Ron and submerges him. Under the water, Ron is grabbed by his nemesis, but kicks him away and heads for the surface.

At that moment, a lariat ensnares Gill's leg. The blonde surfaces once more and pulls up the rope, tightening it. "And arts and crafts is _my_ element."

"Hey!"

"Now, Rufus!"

Rufus kicks the motor, which starts the boat up. "Boo-yah!"

"What's going on? You were out of gas." Rufus surfs across the rope, one end tied to the boat and the other to Gill.

"Psych!", the little one shouts as he reaches the rope's end and dives into the water. The ride elicits a number of yells from the mutant.

Most likely unbalanced due to the extra cartage, the boat makes a turn, swinging Gill into a buoy and knocking loose its tires.

The craft flies up the docks and crashes into a cabin. Unusually enough, there had been plans to put in a sunroof. Now, there is one - free of charge...and style.

Ron and Rufus swim in the direction of the wreck.

The two friends shake off the excess of the water.

"Now, there is an experience I don't want to go through again."

"Yeah", seconds Rufus.

The two of them approach the cabin. "Well, Gill, looks like free swim is..." Ron's eyes goggle. He looks up at the wrecked cabin. He traces the rope from the back of the boat. Where there should be an irate, amphibious ex-camp mate, there is a frayed rope...with green muck at the end of it.

"This cannot be good."

Ron looks down and finds footprints; big, inhuman and dotted with muck, but footprints nonetheless. He looks ahead and finds that they lead into the forest.

"Perfect." The agitation in his voice is clear. He and Rufus carefully make their way into the woods.

It's a lucky thing for them the moon is out; it's the only thing resembling light that they can rely on. "Man, I wish I'd packed a flashlight, or some snacks. I'm starving."

The cracking of a branch startles them. Ron regains his composure. "It's probably nothing."

The rustling of some trees a few feet ahead convinces him otherwise. "He's definitely this way." He looks down to his pants pocket. "You with me, pal?"

Rufus raises a fist in excitement. "Yeah!"

The teenager rushes down the path. It wasn't too hard for him. He'd gone on a number of nature hikes through the forest. That he made it out in one piece each time, he attributed to luck. Some foolish courage helped, too.

As Ron picks a hunk of spider webbing from his hair and flicks it away, he stares at the building greeting his sight.

"Science camp."

Ron cautiously walks toward the structure. In truth, he had little to fear; the only occupants at the moment were maintenance men keeping the place tidy. Security was rarely an issue; after all, who'd try to steal from a science camp?

A noise from inside snaps him out of his investigation. He rushes to the window. It's only one of the custodians. He knocked over a beaker. Ron sighs deeply. He turns around.

Oh, it's only Gill hawking up a loogie. Wait...

The creature lets the wad fly. Ron dives out of the way as the muck eats away at the wall.

The custodian turns toward the hole. "What the--?"

"Run!" The older man does just that. More loogies fire at Ron. He jumps into the room through the new entrance and heads for the door.

(...the halls of science camp...)

Sterile. Dimly lit. Quiet. Okay, so that last part doesn't much apply now. The corridor is lousy with doors to various rooms. Ron looks around. The janitor's closet is open. He goes in. A fold-up chair. He sticks it under the door he came from.

The boy runs to a door and turns the knob. Locked. Another door on the other side of the hall. Same result. This continues for the next seven doors. He turns on a knob at the end of the hallway. It opens.

(...an unlocked room...)

Ron closes the door and locks it. He slides down to the floor and leans against the door.

Rufus pops out of his pocket. "A plan."

He looks down at his rodent friend. "You're right. You wouldn't happen to have one, would you?"

Rufus slaps his forehead.

Ron stands up. Rufus nearly falls out, but is able to grab onto the pocket's edge and slip back in. "You're right, though. If only there was something we could use."

"I just wish we hadn't left all that stuff back at the camp." As Ron says this, Rufus notices the windowed cabinet with several bottles inside. The little one tugs on his owner's shirt. "What is it?" Rufus points to the cupboard.

Ron walks over to it. "Wow." He is amazed by the chemicals within. "Acid. I imagine that some of this lent Gill his destructive properties." Ron shakes his head in surprise. Rufus looks up at him. "Whoa, I didn't know I knew that."

He'd never been this close to such substances before...at least, not since a few months ago in chemistry class. Trying to create a super-powered rocket fuel seemed like a good idea at the time.

The blonde boy's eyes fix on a particular jar. "Nitro glycerin." His eyes move from the cabinet to a tarp hanging in the corner. Fire hazards were rare at the camp, but hey; better to have and not need...

"Rufus, I think I have a plan."

(...the hallway...)

Another custodian walks through mopping the floor. He glances around and shakes his head. "What could've gotten Griff so spooked?" The man sees a chair against a door. As he goes to it, Ron exits the unlocked room, holding the rolled-up tarp.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" At that moment, the chair seems to disintegrate along with the doorknob.

"Sir, there's no time to explain. You have to get out of here. There's a vicious creature on the loose."

"What? One of the experiments got out?"

"No, the--wait, what experiments?"

"Ehhh...yeah, what experiments?"

"This is very important. You have to leave."

"You kids and your stories." The man turns around and sees Gill. He gasps.

"I'd listen to him if I were you."

The custodian jumps back and holds out his mop like a ninja's staff.

Gill snorts and spits a bit of muck at the mop, breaking it in half. The man yells and runs away.

"Idiot." His gaze shifts to his ex-campmate. "What's with the tarp, Ronnie? You gonna put me out?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes." His tone is low and serious. Gill narrows his eyes. A high rumbling sound emerges from his throat. Ron's eyes widen; he knows what's coming.

Gill shoots a huge muck ball at Ron. The boy ducks away. The ball blows the doors open. Upon swinging back into place, they are half corroded.

Ron bolts from the building, tarp in hand. Gill runs after him.

(...the forest...moments later...)

Ron rushes through the brush. He looks behind him and sees Gill charging in the distance. Must...go...faster.

The young man practically bursts from the wooded area. He spies around...a stage, an orchestra pit, stadium seating. This must be...

"Band camp." There's not much time to stop and smell the great music, though; leaves rustle behind him. Ron gets up and runs down the aisle.

Gill emerges from the forest. Footprints in the dirt, leading to the outdoor concert hall. There doesn't seem to be anyone around, though.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are." The creature stalks down the steps toward the stage.

From a middle row, Ron takes a peek. He quickly ducks back down, unnoticed to Gill. He starts to crawl to the aisle. His foot bumps against a seat...which garners the mutant's attention.

Gill dashes to the source of the noise. "I've been dreaming about this for years!" He gets to the row with the bump...and gets tarped. The blow from the rolled-up material knocks him back several rows.

"Somebody needs a girlfriend." Ron runs back up the steps and to the forest. Gill wasn't the only one to fall under that category, but in the heat of the moment, people can't control what comes out of their mouths.

The blonde stops at a signpost. The hand-carved arrow planks showing 'science camp' and 'band camp' pointed behind him. The two planks higher on the post point in different directions: 'clown camp' to the left and 'tele-communications camp' to the right.

"'Tele-communications camp'. Why does that sound familiar?" Ron thinks back...

__

"Aren't you wondering how I jammed all of your communications?"

"Equipment stolen from tele-communications camp?"

"Lucky guess."

"That's it!" Ron rushes down the path heading right. He takes a few steps, then stops in his tracks. He turns his head around.

Rufus comes out of Ron's pocket. "Wrong?"

Ron shushes the naked mole rat. A very faint buzzing sound...coming from the other pathway.

The teen runs back up the path, around the signpost and towards clown camp.

(...outdoor concert hall...)

Several chairs in the third and fourth rows are broken. There's a slight trail of muck as a figure shambles up the stairs.

(...clown camp... moments later...)

Ron looks around the enclosure, which contains many tents. As he gets nearer to a pink tent, the buzzing gets louder.

(...the pink tent...)

There are bleachers around, as well as a high-wire and three big rings. Most likely, this is where the made-up campers would put on a show for visitors...but, as much as he loved those clowns, Ron couldn't help but wonder what kind of kooky parents would send their kids to clown camp.

He looks to the bleachers off to the right. Behind the seating is a laptop with a satellite tower on the monitor. Up close, the portable computer emits a sort-of piercing sound. Wouldn't that be just great, Gill in league with the Emergency Broadcast System. Interrupting fine programming with meaningless noise; will he stop at nothing!

Ron gets on his knees and types on the keyboard. The constriction of space forces Rufus out. A window opens, and reads: "Password required." He types a word:

"'Wannaweep'." Another window: 'Password denied'.

"Should've known it wasn't so obvious. How about 'revenge'?"

'Password denied.'

Ron looks a little distraught, until... "Squeeb!"

He stares at the monitor.

'Password denied.'

"I thought for sure that'd be it. Time for my patented problem-solving computer method!"

He cracks his knuckles and wiggles his fingers. The digits hit Ctrl-Alt-Del at the same time.

The computer shuts down and starts to reboot.

Rufus puts his paws on his hips. "Patented?"

Ron rubs the back of his head. "Well, it worked...I hope."

(...the forest...minutes later...)

Ron rushes through the woods and gets to an open area. Rocks form a circle and logs are set up around it. A fine sandy finish ties the space together. This space was home to many a campfire...as well as many a campfire tale. He'd heard a number of them as a kid, but he never thought he'd end up living one.

He pulls out the jar of nitro and pours some of it out. The chemical forms a circle about a foot away from the campfire circle.

(...the outskirts of the forest...)

Gill rushes through the area past the trees. The look on his face suggests that the flames of his anger are far from extinguished.

(...the campfire circle...)

On his knees, Ron holds up two rocks and stretches his arms out. He looks down at Rufus. "If this doesn't work, I want you to know that I've truly cherished our friendship." He shuts his eyes and claps the stones together several times.

(...the forest...)

The creature continues to sprint through. The sound of an explosion startles him for a moment. After a moment, he resumes running.

(...the campfire circle...moments later...)

His outfit tattered, Ron straightens a log. He turns to run away.

"Ronnie..." What choice does he have but to turn back around? "...leaving so soon?" Gill walks into the clearing.

"Well, you know..."

"Anyway, it looks like I have you right where I want you", Gill announces with seemingly undeserved confidence.

"Yeah, you'd think so."

"I know so. Leading you away from Wannaweep was classic."

"Wait. Leading me away?"

"Still haven't learned to think, huh? Don't you remember what I said before?"

Ron lets his mind drift..._"Oh, I am no longer Gil. Now, I am _Gill!No, that's not it. _"...as in these things that grew when I mutated!"_ Not quite... _"Did I mention that contact with this muck will turn you into a mutant, just like me?"_

The blonde's eyes widen. "And I can't imagine the girls having much humanity left. After all, the big doofus started to change in a hurry." Ron started to feel flush. If what his former campmate was telling him was true...he'd never forgive himself. Meanwhile, the freak-formerly-known-as-Gil wore a smug smile on his piscine face. Even if he loses, he still wins.

In the midst of his silent gloat, Gill notices the sloppy assemblage of leaves and other flora piled in front of Ron near the circle.

He points to the...ahem, trap. "And just what is _that_ supposed to be?"

"What?"

"The trap." He uses air quotes for emphasis.

"That's not a trap."

"Then try it out if it's not a trap, Grizzly Adams."

Ron scoffs. "Fine." He walks onto the trap...and yells as he falls into a hole.

"Did you really think you were gonna trap me, Ronnie?"

"Well...I was hoping."

Gill walks straight ahead toward the circle. "I guess that's what you get for not being three steps ahead of the game." He takes a couple of steps over a log...and lets out a scream as he falls into a hole. To his surprise, this hole is wider than the one Ron fell into. Gill knocks the tarp away from him and spits out grains of sand.

Ron jumps up from his hole. He claws into the dirt. His fingers sink into the soil and he pulls himself out. He rolls onto his back and breathes heavily.

The creature jumps, but makes no progress. Apparently, the hole is deeper, too. "Who needs shovels when you have nitro glycerin?" Ron stands at the edge of the hole. "Maybe you should've gone for four." Gill scowls and leaps up at him. Ron laughs a little at the mutant's futility and trots back toward the path.

(...Cabin 13...ten minutes later...)

Given Gill's bad news, Ron had to rush back to the squad at Wannaweep. He grabs his stomach, breathing quite harshly, and falls to the ground. A voice snaps Ron from his "rest".

"Ron?" It was Kim. "I heard an explosion. I thought..."

"I'm all right." He glanced at the squad. They certainly looked human. "Everyone's okay?"

"Yeah, weirdly enough." The girls murmur in agreement.

"No webbed feet or forked tongues or anything like that?"

Kim shrugs as best as she can. "Not really."

Ron runs his hand over his brow. "That's a relief. I was able to incapacitate the jamming equipment." For the second time of the night, Ron shakes his head. "I didn't know I knew that."

As he rushes to free the girls, he can't help but think about Gill's words. Sure, the girls looked normal, but the muck obviously worked on him. Nah, he was just trying to play him. But what if swimming in the water had an effect on him?

In any event, the ordeal is over.


	2. Teenage Mutant Nervy Cheer Squad

Chapter 2 - Teenage Mutant Nervy Cheer Squad

(...the streets of Middleton...twenty minutes later...)

It had been a quiet drive back to town for the squad. There was no problem contacting help. Wade was able to contact a roadside service for assistance. The bus had been towed on the back of a truck. There obviously wasn't enough room for everyone in the vehicle, so they had to ride shotgun...on the bus.

Ron looks at the girls. Not a one of them wore a pleasant look. Whether it was because of him or the situation, he was afraid to say. His eyes fix on Tara. She stares out the window, her head in her hands. It almost seemed like she was flirting with him by the fire. Maybe she...nah. She was just being nice. No way a sweet girl like her could ever go for a goof-off like him. Besides, given some of what he's found out from snatches of conversation by people who have heard things, she's unavailable...in a sense.

A big bump in the road interrupts Ron's lament. He opens his mouth to offer a bit of levity, but closes it just as quickly. In his life, the young man has seldom not known a time for humor (except for funerals, obviously), but he couldn't really think of anything to say.

(...outside the Stoppable home...thirty minutes later...)

The last stop. The other girls had been dropped off at their houses, and, for some reason, Mr. Barkin had asked to get off at Middleton Park...a good twelve miles from his home. They were all pretty tired. The night's events must've been too much for them.

The doors of the bus open. Given that the vehicle was still hitched up, Ron had to jump for it. He lands on his feet and makes his way to the door.

He had a feeling that his parents would be worried about him. He quietly puts his key in the lock and turns it. The door opens and the boy walks inside.

(...Ron's bedroom...moments later...)

Rufus squirms out of his owner's pants pocket and scampers to the dresser. Ron strips down to his undershirt and boxers and slips into bed. Never has it felt more comfortable. After the night's weirdness, he needs some relaxation. He had a feeling that the girls were having a good sleep, as well. He pulls the covers over him and closes his eyes. Rufus finds a spot at the end of the bed and rests. Luckily for him, Ron was a sound sleeper.

Unfortunately for him, this is but the beginning of the nightmare.

The calm before the storm.

The oscillation unit pre-fecal matter.

(...all over Middleton...)

_Pale (and, in some cases, tanned and dark) skin takes on a green coloring. Beautifully filed and styled nails sharpen into claws. Webbing develops in-between painted toes and fingers. Gills form upon once dainty, blemish-free necks. Faces are distorted by puffed-up lips and bulging red eyes. Cute noses flatten to near-nothingness. Slime starts forming on young bodies._

(...Middleton High...Thursday morning...)

The ladies' bathroom. As you'd expect, there are a number of girls crowded around the expansive vanity mirror. This is how it is, sometimes; women trying to see how pretty they are to get through the day. Here, however, the situation is somewhat inverted.

For one thing, it's about 7:00 in the morning. Students don't usually arrive until about a quarter to eight...unless it's for yearbook staff - 7:30. For another thing, all the girls are cheerleaders. And for one more thing, they're trying to see just how ugly they are.

Gill warned that contact with his muck would change them into mutants. The young women gaze in horror at what's happened to them. As one would expect, they aren't taking the situation very well.

"Aaagh! This used to be my good side!", cries out the monstrosity formerly known as Bonnie. Her face was green, her lips puffed out, and her now-red eyes shimmering with tears.

"Looks like it still is." Kim was similarly affected, but who could resist such an easy set-up?

Bonnie turns toward Kim, her eyes narrow. Flashing fang-like teeth, she leaps at her long-time rival. The redhead is pinned to the ground; the attack clearly took her by surprise. The brunette swipes at Kim with her claws.

"If it wasn't for your freaky friend, we wouldn't all be freaks!", she roars - literally - between swipes.

Tara tries to pull Bonnie away from the fight. "Bonnie, this isn't the time to point fingers...uh, claws."

Kim gets up and dusts herself off. "Tara's right. We need to work on finding a way out of this mess." She pulls out the Kimmunicator, which drips with slime. She groans a little as she turns it on.

Wade appears on the screen. "Hey, Ki--whoa!" The boy genius nearly falls out of his chair. "Bad time at the competition?"

"Don't ask. Any chance of getting in contact with anyone experienced in radical genetics?" Kim leans against the wall.

The boy genius reacts with a speedy clattering of fingers against keyboard. The unfortunate look of disappointment twists his features. "Bad news."

"Not really what I want to hear."

"All of the world's leading geneticists are busy."

"With what?"

"The articles I just pulled from the net all say the same thing: 'the find of the century'. It's hard to say when they'll be available."

Kim sinks to the ground. "Perfect."

"Wait. Isn't there, like, some kind of hologram thingy that could help us out here? You know, disguise us?", inquires Hope.

"That's the stuff of movies. We're a good two years away from that kind of technology", the boy genius replies.

Bonnie fumes. "So, in other words, we're screwed."

Wade rubs the back of his head. "That's another way to put it, yeah."

Kim's eyes widen. "Wait. Do you think there's a way for us to get some kind of covering?"

"I might be able to work something out."

(...Ron's bedroom...)

The blonde teen lies on the bed. His hands and feet hang akimbo from under the sheets. His computer screen switches on. Ron turns over and smacks his lips.

A window pops up. Wade appears on the screen.

"Ron?"

"But I wasn't finished with those crab cakes..."

"Ron!"

The teen rolls over and falls out of bed. The shock wakes him up.

"Ron!"

"Wade?"

"Ron. The squad needs your help."

"I had the weirdest dream. I dreamt that me and the squad and Mr. Barkin were at Camp Wannaweep, and this crazy dude I went to camp with was a horrible mutant who led us there."

Wade shakes his head a little. "I hate to tell you this, Mad Dog, but..."

Another window pops up. On it are the mutated remains of the Middleton cheer squad. Not a one of them looks very happy.

"Oh, my goodness." Ron gazes in wonder. "Look at how clean the girl's room is. Why can't the boy's room be that nice?"

"Ron...!" Wade sounds agitated.

"It _does_ look nice, though."

"Indeed it does, but the squad needs you."

The boy yawns a little. "What do I need to do?"

(...the girl's bathroom...twenty-five minutes later...)

The squad members stand around with hands folded and sour expressions. Tired of the silence, Bonnie throws her hands up in frustration. "How long do we have to wait here?"

As if to answer her question, a knock at the door cuts her off.

(...outside the girl's bathroom...)

Ron stands at the door. In his outstretched hands are several cloaks. The door cracks open and a pair of slimy, clawed hands takes the garments inside.

The young man stands outside the room for a number of minutes until...

"I feel ridiculous." Liz is the first one out.

"Are you sure about that?", Marcella states.

"Okay. _More _ridiculous."

"I just hope no one notices us." Crystal takes a cautionary glance around the hallway.

Maggie puts her hand to Crystal's mouth. "Sssshhhh! You want to jinx it?"

"This is the ugliest thing I've ever worn, and my mom dragged me to a '70s dance." Bonnie is clearly enjoying this.

"I think it's all right. It's kind of like an old-fashioned cloaking device." Tara giggles, garnering a surprised expression from Ron and an annoyed one from Bonnie.

"I don't know how I'm explaining this to my parents." Hope groans a little. "I had to sneak out this morning."

The crowd of girls erupts with cries of "We all did".

Kim is the last girl to emerge from the latrine. "All right. We're going to be like this for...I'm not sure how long, but the important thing is to make the best of it."

The girls grab the hoods and put them on.

Tara raises her hand. "Wait. Sooner or later, someone is going to ask about the cloaks. What do we do then?"

Ron rubs his chin. "I have an idea."

(...the halls of Middleton High...thirty minutes later...)

Several cloaked figures pass by the students. One of the teens - a serious-minded type - closes his locker and gawks at the mysterious persons. "Now what in the world is going on here?"

A tall, somewhat gangly young man walks beside him. "Well, Ed, I'd say it looks like we're being visited."

"I can see that, Tom, but by who?"

A fancily-attired girl joins the duo. "Can't you see the cloaks? It's obviously a brotherhood."

Ed stares in great disbelief. "Brotherhood?"

"Sure. They must be visiting to see how an American high school works."

"Don't be ridiculous, Eve." Tom points at the passers-by. "That's no brotherhood."

"Thank you."

Tom takes a whiff. "Can't you smell that perfume? It must be a sisterhood."

"Sisterhood? Oh, for crying--"

Eve cuts him off. "That sounds so interesting. I don't think I've ever met any female monks."

Ed lets out an annoyed sigh. He was obviously used to this.

(...further down the hall...)

One of the figures is bent over at a drinking fountain. A student of considerable size passes by. As his foot catches the back of the cloak, his cell phone rings. The girl underneath doesn't seem to notice. The young man takes out the device. "Talk to me. Of course, we're still on for tonight. There's nothing I love more than staying in and watching Canadian tax-shelter horror movies with you. Right. I'll see you." The girl finally notices that her cloak is stuck. The young man moves his foot for a moment, then puts it back down. "Love you, too."

She tries to pull away. The student pockets his phone and shifts his foot. The cloaked girl sails down the hall. Her garment gets caught on an open locker. The door clangs with the force of the material attached...but is all but forgotten by the sight of the person underneath: Crystal.

All eyes are on her, all mouths are hanging open. The magenta-haired girl is just as paralyzed by exposure as everyone else is by her. She gulps a little and moves her lips. "Well, this is awkward."

(...all over Middleton High...)

News of the cloaked figures spreads fast and furious in the school. In hallways, classrooms and even restrooms, hoods are whipped off and mutated cheerleaders are revealed. Along with it are cries and catcalls of "Fish face!", "Freako!" and "Hey, you!" Okay, so they're not the most imaginative bunch.

(...outside a classroom...about an hour later...)

The bell rings. Ron walks out of the room, a smile on his face. He doesn't make it three steps when...

A pair of slimy hands slams him into a locker. The squad scowls at him. So much for his good mood. Each of the girls is holding their cloak under one arm. Bonnie is the first to step forward.

"You and your 'traveling brotherhood' scheme! I'll never be able to show my face again!"

"Well, actually, you might if a cure is found..." Her eyes narrow. "Yeah, never mind."

The girls throw their cloaks at him, burying him. He pops up from the burlap pile. All the girls are walking away. Well, almost all...

"Kim!" He reaches out his arms, ready to hug. "You stayed."

The red-head puts her hands up. "Ron...I don't think I can look at you right now."

"But, KP...!" She tosses her cloak over him and walks off.

(...the cafeteria...hours later...)

With a tray full of...something or other, Ron makes his way around the room, in search of a seat. The usual air of indifference is mixed in with a number of cutting glances. If looks could kill, these people could qualify as professional assassins.

The young man sits at an empty table. His best friend Kim usually sat with him. His so-called best friend. Granted, the girls could perform double duties as cheerleaders and mascots without costumes, but this was his hour of need, too. Where could she be?

(...the pool...)

The basement of the school is notable for its boiler room and its swimming pool. The shimmering of the water is disturbed by several greenish bodies. One of them surfaces.

"Man, this is just what I needed." Kim spits out a bit of water. "I was dying in class...literally."

Tara surfaces. "I hear you."

The two of them rejoin their fellow mutants in doing laps.

(...the cafeteria...)

If only there was a way to reverse this; a way to solve the problem; a method of--

Ron's train of thought is harshly derailed by a smack to the back of his head. He turns his head from side to side. Nothing. He shrugs his shoulders and returns to his lunch. Seconds later, another whap! He tries to ignore it and eat the stuff on the tray, but he gets knocked right into it.

He wipes the muck off of his face and turns around. Behind him, there's a line of people with angry looks on their faces. Some of them crack their knuckles. Others punch their hands, ready for a fight. Ron tugs at his collar. "So, uh...what's the good word?"

A burly guy steps out. "We heard what happened last night. You couldn't save the squad and now they're freaks."

Ron shakes his head. "What does that have to do with you?"

"We need those girls for school spirit!" The jocky-looking guy protests, joined by ostensibly his teammates, also in line.

A trio of plain girls step out of line. "We need those girls for unrealistic standards of beauty!" They munch on celery stalks in their hands.

"We need those girls for..." The eyes of a pair of geeky looking kids shift downward. They move their binders over their midsections. "...um, we'd rather not say."

The cafeteria erupts in ruckus. Food (of a sort) starts to fly. Ron dumps the contents of his tray and uses it as a shield. Rufus pops out of his pocket. A volley hits the naked mole rat in the face. He licks it off...and quickly regrets it. "Ughhh..."

The blonde looks down at his pet. "Don't worry, Rufus. I'll get you out of here." Ron makes it to the door. He drops the tray and rushes out.

(...the hallway...ten minutes later...)

The corridor seems to be devoid of any life. The door of the janitor's closet cracks open. The coast seems to be clear.

"Man, this is bad. I gotta leave town; live under an assumed name." The young man looks down. "How does Stop Ronnable sound to you?" Rufus grunts in disagreement. A shadow passes by the door. Ron peeks out. He is quite surprised to find that it's Kim.

She stops at a locker to adjust her top. It's a real bear having to get your clothes just right following swim time. Just as she walks away, a guy with a sneer on his face jumps in front of her.

"You know, you're a long way from the Black Lagoon." Lars, one of those anything-to-get-a-rise-out-of-you types. Unfortunately, this model came fully equipped with strength.

"Funny. That's the best one, yet", Kim replies in an I-so-don't-have-time-for-this tone. She starts off again, but he blocks her with both arms.

"Someone needs to send you back." He grabs her and manages to walk a total of two steps.

Ron blocks his path. He stares Lars down.

"You seem to be in my way."

"And you seem to have something that doesn't belong to you." Kim's eyes widen; she's never heard Ron sound so serious.

"This ain't your problem, Stoppable." The jerk's grip on Kim's arm loosens.

"When someone messes with my best friend, it _becomes_ my problem." Ron approaches he who sneers. The two men are face to face.

"I'm only gonna say this once: leave her alone."

The jerk backs away. "Uh, sure, Stoppable. Whatever you say." As Lars takes a few more steps, he keeps his eyes on Ron, lest he suffer injury. The few steps turn into a full-fledged run.

"I guess he won't be bothering us anymore." Kim isn't listening to a word he says; she's focused on his face. "What's wrong?"

She takes his hand. "You might wanna see something."

(...the girl's bathroom...)

"Wow." Ron sees what Kim was trying to tell him: his eyes glow a bright red. He beats his head, trying to make them normal. Funnily enough, it works.

Ron slumps down. "Aw, man."

"What is it? Your eyes are fine, right?"

"Yeah, but...swimming in the lake had an effect on me. I really don't want to become a mutant."

Kim puts her hands on her hips. "What's so wrong with that, and choose your words carefully."

"Nothing. After all, you've got a built-in Halloween costume. Plus...it makes for good water travel?"

"Now, that's an answer I was looking for." The two friends share a laugh. A small gagging sound interrupts the mirth. Rufus hangs out of Ron's pocket.

"What's with Rufus?"

"Food fight." Ron hands him to Kim. "Little guy took a shot...in the mouth."

"Really?" Kim puts her lips on those of Rufus and starts to suck. She moans a little as she performs the act. Ron looks on with a satisfied expression.

The redhead quickly rears back. Rufus spits a gob of food onto the mirror.

Kim wipes the corners of her lips. "Sorry 'bout the liplock, Rufus."

"S'okay." He jumps off of her hand and onto the counter. The rodent looks up at the transparent gob of food hanging from the mirror.

"So what made you think to do that?"

Kim shrugs. "I don't know. It just came to me."

(...a classroom...twenty minutes later...)

A number of students sit at their desks. Some are calm, while others are fretful and some are just desperate. What they have in common is this: they are all taking an exam. In the back is the mutant formerly known as Liz. There are several bottles of water next to her desk, just in case. She had no choice in the seating arrangements; if looks could kill, her classmates could qualify as assassins.

It wasn't easy convincing her teacher to let her take the test ("Don't I have as much a right to fail as everyone else!"), and her feelings about the outcome of said test were far from positive. Nonetheless, her parents had always encouraged her to try, no matter what. After all, it's how she got on the squad.

Almost as quickly as she started, she finishes. With a triumphant expression on her abnormal face, she strides to the teacher's desk.

The balding man looks up. "Finished already, Ms. McManus?"

"Pretty much. I think I did very well." She turns and walks to her desk.

"We'll just see." Mr. Stephenson knew that Liz was not one for confidence when it came to tests. He pulls a piece of paper from his desk, checking her test against it. His eyes widen, an expression which goes unnoticed by everyone except Liz. A smile creeps onto her face.

One down, two to go.

(...the library...ten minutes later...)

Study hall was usually a time of resting and goofing-off for the students of Middleton High. Not so, Hope Martinez. Not that she was a geek, but Hope felt that study hall made for a good time to, you know...study. Or, perhaps, get some reading done. Her clawed hands look through the shelves. They pull out a book on 18th century architecture; there is much to be said for curiosity, as well.

A pair of less-studious types run around the bookcases. To look at them, one would think that they were a couple of kids who got lost on their way to school, but they were just really small freshmen.

"Can't catch me!"

"We'll see about that!"

The two students grab each other and rush into one of the shelves. The (rather surprising) force of the crash causes a domino effect, causing the bookcases to fall over, one after the other.

Unaware of this, Hope stands looking at a picture of European archways. She never saw the falling unit coming.

The freshmen stop upon hearing a choked yell. They gaze at the destruction their rough-housing has wrought. The boys cover their mouths in shock.

One of them removes his hand. "We are so dead."

Another choked yell. The pile of cases rumbles a bit. From the literary rubble rises Hope, a shelf in one hand, her book in the other.

She sets the case down and walks to the counter. The librarian's mouth is still open from what has transpired.

Hope presents the book. "This looks really good. I'd like to check this out."

The older woman can only offer silence in response.

"Okaaay. I'll just be going with this." She looks around. "Sorry about the mess. I could help clean it up, if you like."

Hope walks to the first shelf to fall and sets it up.

As she goes to the next one, the two boys look to each other. "Wow. I guess this means we're not in trouble."

(...the halls of Middleton High...ten minutes later...)

Bonnie walks through the crowd of people. A number of them bump into her. The students murmur apologies. The brunette turns around, an angry look on her face.

"Well, that's okay. After all, we all make mistakes." What's this? The response contained no trace of anger or sarcasm. It actually sounded sincere.

A bookish younger girl walks by. "Hello. Are you feeling okay?"

'Like it's any of your business how I'm feeling!'...is what Bonnie wanted to say to her, but it came out sounding like...

"I'm doing all right." The mutant covers her mouth, her eyes wide. She rushes down the corridor.

(...the girl's bathroom...)

She gazes in the mirror, her piscine reflection staring back at her. She turns on the sink and splashes water in her face, just the thing to get the circulation going. Her hands grip the counter.

"All right, let's try this again." She starts with an edge... "Possible is..." ...which quickly dissipates. "...not that bad." An annoyed yell. "Stoppable can be...kind of endearing." Another shout. "My mom is...only looking out for my best interests."

Bonnie's hands find her mouth again. Her ability to craft a cutting insult has chosen this moment to fail her.

With a squeal, she runs out.

(...the hallway...an hour and a half later...)

Maggie darts around the hallways. For obvious reasons, cheer practice was postponed, but there was still the matter of yearbook, debate club and band practice. Having so many extra-curriculars looked good on a transcript, but they could put such a cramp in one's social life. So wasn't it just her luck that, today, these meetings would all be held simultaneously?

Debate club was a no-brainer, given how she was not only able to disagree with her mother on several key issues, but was able to back up her arguments quite strongly. Band practice wasn't considered a very popular choice, being a cheerleader and all, but she had always loved music and, as a girl, was somewhat infatuated with creating such beauty. (The cello being her weapon of choice.) As for the yearbook...she had a way with a turn of phrase, making her a pretty good caption writer.

She collapses onto the floor. A few moments later, she awakens to find herself moving down the hall, but she's not moving. Her head looks over and finds that she's being carried, her arms draped over the 'rescuers'.

Maggie's feet find the ground and she slowly stands up. "Thank you very much. I..."

She turns around to face those who helped her. The girl's mouth hangs open a little. The two rescuers are exact duplicates of Maggie. As proven by the smile on her face, the one on the left seems to have sort of a bubbly demeanor. The one on the right wears a smirk on her face.

The freckled blonde puts a hand to her head. "Okay, now _this_ is..."

"...weird? There's an understatement", replied the right-side replica.

"Certainly. Why are...?"

"...the two of us here?", the girl on the left chimes in. "Well, you must've needed some help..."

"...with something that you couldn't do alone..."

"...so we showed up!"

Maggie puts her hands up. "Okay, that whole finishing each other's sentences thing is kinda creepy."

"Sorry." The clones offer in unison.

"It's going to be a little confusing trying to keep track of you, so..." She points to the girl on the left. "...I'll call you Joy." Her finger heads toward the right. "And I'll call you Francie."

"And we'll call you Maggie!"

"So, what do we do now?" Francie puts her hands on her hips. "We're obviously here for something."

Joy throws up her arms. "Let's hit the mall!"

"That would be nice, but there's still..." Maggie counts off the points."...debate club, the yearbook and band practice."

"Well, let's get to it."

"Yeah, the sooner we get done, the sooner we can have fun!"

The three take off down the hall. Maggie knew there'd be plenty of time to play with herself later, but work had to come first.

(...a house...about an hour later...)

A six-year-old girl tries to keep pace with a woman rushing from the living room to the kitchen. "Mom, you want to see my drawing?"

"Dad, can I borrow the car?" He is being crowded by an exuberant teenaged boy.

"Why aren't these dishes done?" The woman stares at the overflowing sink.

A nine-year-old girl stands on her head. "Lookit what I can do!"

"That's nice, but Daddy needs to rest." The middle-aged man collapses into a La-Z-Boy.

Amidst the chatter, the door to an upstairs bedroom opens and slams with no incident.

(...the bedroom...)

_"Has anyone seen Marcella?"_

With its girly outfits, posters of music groups and stuffed animals, this room doubtless belongs to a teenage girl. One of the plush toys resting in a chair - a bunny - starts floating across the room. An invisible force jumps onto the bed. The mystery guest appears out of thin air - it's Marcella. She cuddles the stuffed rabbit as if it were a baby.

"Oh, I just love this quiet time, Mr. Bun-Bun." She tweaks the bunny's nose. The good feeling is short-lived; there are footsteps drawing closer to her door. The girl's happiness turns to shock.

_"Maybe she got here and didn't tell anyone."_ The door opens and in walks Marcella's mother. She looks around, but all she sees is a bedroom with no occupant. The crying of two babies interrupts the investigation.

The woman shrugs and closes the door. Marcella re-appears and continues to lavish attention on Mr. Bun-Bun.

(...a car...twenty-five minutes later...)

The somewhat beat-up vehicle is parked just outside Middleton. The young man figured that his passenger needed a getaway from the hubbub of the citizens and their comments.

The letter jacket-clad young man stretches out a little. "Isn't this nice, Crys?"

"Yeah, I guess." She rubs her arm with her hand.

"What's wrong?"

"Well...this whole thing. I'm really worried. I mean, what if I'm stuck like this forever?"

"Crys, it doesn't matter what you look like. You _do_ look weird, no doubt about that, but I fell for you; for what's inside of you."

"Rich..." The magenta-haired girl throws her arms around the driver. "...thank you."

_She doesn't know how accepting I can be._

Crystal breaks away a bit. "Did you say something?"

"No."

The cheerleader shrugs and resumes the hug.

_I can deal with this, but can she deal with me?_

She lets her boyfriend go. "Are you sure you didn't say anything?"

"Pretty sure I didn't."

Crystal doesn't take her eyes off of her boyfriend. _How can I tell her..._should _I tell her? _She can hear his voice, but his lips aren't moving.

Rich looks at her. "What is it?"

"Oh...nothing. I just thought I heard something. We should probably get back."

"You're right." The young man starts the ignition.

(...Bueno Nacho...thirty minutes later...)

Kim and Ron sit in a booth. He chows down on a chimmarito. "Something wrong, Kim?"

"People are staring at us, and don't talk with your mouth full." Sure enough, the patrons gaze at the red-headed mutant sitting across from the blonde boy.

Ron swallows his food. "Sorry. Besides, it's not like they're an angry mob chasing you toward a windmill. Now _that_ would be bad." Ron focuses on his meal.

Kim folds her scaly arms. "I guess so."

"Something's bothering me, though." Ron holds up the chimmarito and shakes it as he talks. "Rufus was in the lake, too, and it hasn't affected him at all."

Unbeknownst to Ron and Kim, Rufus is at a nearby table. He's surrounded by trays of nachos dripping with cheese. A new tray floats through the air. Its nachos are the cheese-drippiest of all. The rodent glares intently at the tray, almost like he were willing it to come to him. The tray lands before the naked mole rat. A wide grin splits his pink face as he jumps into the mini-field of nachos.

"Maybe it has different effects on animals."

"Yeah, maybe." As Ron takes another bite, Tara walks through the door.

The redhead unfolds her arms. "There's something else that's weird."

Ron takes a good long look at his best friend. "You know, at this point, there's nothing that can faze me. Weird away."

Kim gestures to her chest. "My boobs feel different, like they're rounder or something."

Surely enough, her once-pointy orbs are a thing of the past. Ron looks away a little. "Well, I wasn't going to say anything..."

"Now, there's an unusual sight." Kim gazes toward the door.

"What?"

"Tara. I've never seen her come in here." The blonde mutant walks toward the counter.

"You know, it's the weirdest thing. It seemed like she was flirting with me last night."

"Well..." Kim stares off.

"Well, what?"

"She did tell me that she...kind of liked you."

"Really?", Ron inquires with great confidence.

"Yeah, but you didn't hear it from me."

"Hear what?" Ron gets up and approaches the perky blonde. A girl showing interest in Ron was a rare thing, but he knew to take advantage of the situation.

"Hey, Tara." She turns around.

"Hi, Ron."

"So, what brings you here?"

"Well..." She slides her hands around his back. "...you. I heard you liked to come here."

"Yeah, whenever I'm not at school or home or helping Kim."

She runs her clawed fingers through his hair. "So...are you doing anything tonight?"

"Not really."

"Great. Then maybe you can come over."

Kim sat at the booth, taking in the whole conversation. It's nice that Ron was spreading his wings and embracing life...even if it did take a life- and DNA-altering experience to do so.

"To your house?"

"I don't mean the Bermuda Triangle."

"Sounds like fun. But, wait, what about your parents?"

The word reverberated in Kim's head. What would she tell her parents? _How_ would she tell them.

"Oh, don't worry. They're all right. I usually only had Bonnie over. After her, you'll be a breath of fresh air."

Kim rushes to the blonde twosome. "Hey, Tara."

"Hey, Kim."

She turns to Ron. "I just remembered that I need to get home. You two have a good time."

Tara puts her arm around Ron's waist. "I know we will." Kim hurries out the door.

"So, I'll see you at eight?"

"Eight it is." He turns to his rodent. "Come on, Rufus."

The trays left bare, Rufus hops off of the table and follows Ron out the door, followed by the eyes of the patrons.

_"...and then I woke up this morning, where I found myself like, well..._this._"_

(...the Possible home...an hour later...)

All eyes are on Kim as she sits at the kitchen table.

"I guess I was kinda self-conscious about it, but I felt that I had to tell you."

Mr. Dr. Possible clears his throat. "Well...Kimmie-cub, I'm glad you came forward with this, but...this is a little...off-putting."

Jim and Tim walk in. "Hey, Kim. You look--"

"--different, somehow. Did you change your hair?"

She groans a little. "I'm a mutant."

"We know that, but there's something about you that's different."

The redhead rolls her eyes.

"Now, boys, your sister is going through a hard time", Mrs. Dr. Possible offers. "The best thing we can do is offer her our support."

"Sure thing, Mom."

The tweebs surround their sister. "So, what's it like being a mutated freak?" The 'freak' crack was bad enough, but that freaky 'speaking in unison' thing was the line.

A devious look forms on Kim's face. "How would you like to find out first-hand?" A high rumbling sound emanates from her throat.

"Boys, be nice to your sister. Kim, no loogies at the table."

Kim swallows the bit of phlegm. Jim and Tim stomp off. "Awwww!"

The elder redhead sits down. "Don't worry, Kim. This can't last forever, right?"

"Yeah. According to Wade, the genetictists that can help the squad and I are busy with some 'find of the century'."

"It seems to me that someone ought to do something about that camp. Seal it off and drain the lake."

Kim gets up and heads to her room.

"But that water would have to go somewhere."

"I'm sure they could find a way to purify it."

"Or see what effect it could have on the surrounding land."

As the Drs. Possible carry on their debate, Kim wonders about Ron. He was right about everything last night. Maybe there might be a way to prevent this from happening again. However, her mind was on her brothers. She knew not to let them get to her, and was quick to let these things go...for now.

After all, tweebs got to sleep, sometime.

(...the Stoppable house...about an hour later...)

Victor Stoppable sits on the couch whistling "The Long Goodbye" while reading the paper. His wife, Carolyn, straightens a picture hanging on the wall. Their son, Ron, moves like a shot up to his room. In other words, just another quiet evening at home.

The young man zooms back down the stairs, startling his mother. "Ronald, what's going on?"

"Yeah." Victor puts the paper down. "Where's the fire?

Ron looks down toward his crotch, as if to answer the question. "Well, I...have a date."

"A date? That must be why you're so anxious."

"My little boy is growing up." Carolyn can't help but hug her son. "So, who's the lucky girl?"

"She's a cheerleader."

"Oh. Is it your friend, Kimberly?"

"Kim?" Ron was taken aback by this assumption. The thought of Kim as more than a friend never crossed his mind. "No, Mom. It's Tara."

"Oh. By the way, how was the competition last night?"

"It was...interesting." Ron felt that sparing his parents the gory details of last night's horror show was the best course of action. And so, it was done with a statement that, while not exactly the truth, wasn't exactly a lie, either.

He looks at the wall clock. "I gotta get going. Don't want to be late."

Ron heads for the door.

"Our Ronald has a date. Isn't it wonderful?"

"Yes, it is." The man straightens the newspaper. "I can finally cancel those therapy sessions."

(...Tara's room...forty minutes later...)

Ron had been given the grand tour by his date. Her parents were surprisingly accepting of Tara's circumstance...at least after Ron offered up an explanation. The two teens stand in the room, which was pretty much what he expected: neat and pink.

"This is a really nice place you have."

"Why, thank you."

"It would've been nice if we went out."

Tara sits down on her bed. "The way Mom and Dad reacted was unsettling enough. Dealing with strangers would be way too much."

"You're right. Besides, I guess we get a chance to get to know each other better."

"Yeah." She pats a spot next to her. Ron obliges and sits down.

"I'm still kind of shocked that you like me. I mean, I don't exactly set girl's skirts afire."

The old Tara would've blushed herself into a coma from that remark, but the new one offers up a smirk. "I always thought you were kind of cute, but in a weird sort of way."

"That's me: cute, but weird."

"I wanted to say something for so long, but..." Tara exhales. "...there was Bonnie. We were...are cheerleaders, and you were...you. She was always saying that who you go out with says something about who you are. And she proves this by going out with a different guy every six weeks."

Tara and Ron share a laugh.

"I thought to myself, 'If I can't have Ron, than I don't want nobody else'. Put my waiting with Bonnie never finding the right guy and how close we are, and you have..."

"...the rumors."

"Joined at the hip, fraternal twins, scissor sisters. I've heard it all, Ron."

The young man moved his lips to say something like "Is it true?", but decided to keep it to himself. "I wasn't really looking for anyone. Girls see how I am, what I do and their choice is made; bim-boom, done. Except for Kim, no girl would get to know me. I've accepted that girls find me...repulsive."

"Anyone who'd find you repulsive has serious problems."

"You're really sweet, Tara. Any guy would be lucky to have you."

Tara eyes him hungrily. "But I don't want any guy. I want you." She jumps on him.

Ron puts his hands up. "Hold it. Not that I haven't dreamed of this...several times, but aren't you moving a little fast?"

"It doesn't matter. I need this, and I know you do, too."

"But, I..." Any protests that Ron planned on voicing died in his throat as Tara nibbles her way from his neck to his ear. His eyelids flutter, making for a nice counterpoint to her moaning.

Tara moves her head and plants kisses all over Ron's face. She stops and looks down at his happy expression. "You were saying?"

"I honestly can't remember." Ron and Tara resume kissing as they remove each other's tops. They get so lost in passion that they don't notice that their skin colors turn a lime green. The teens lie on the bed, their limbs melting into each other.

(...the living room...ten minutes later...)

"Those two have been awfully quiet up there." The woman on the couch looked toward the ceiling. Her hair was so blonde as to be almost off-white. Mrs. St. James didn't believe in bleaching; 'twas the ravages of age. She nudges the man next to her. "Would you check on the two of them?"

"Fine." Mr. St. James goes up the stairs.

He knocks on Tara's door. "Tara? Is everything okay in there?"

No response. The man knocks again. His hand turns the knob.

(...Tara's room...)

The door opens. The man gapes at the giant blob on his daughter's bed. It well and truly resembles a gelatin mold.

He slowly steps out of the room, ashen-faced, and closes the door.

The blob shakes a little.

"Ron?" Tara's voice reverberates.

"Yes, Tara?" Ron's voice does the same.

"Did you hear something?"

"Hmmm. Not really."


	3. A Change Will Do Some Good

Chapter 3 - A Change Will Do Some Good

(...the campfire circle...several hours later...)

The moon shines brightly over the enclosure. Owls hoot, crickets chirp and other creatures contribute to the soundtrack of the woods, with nary a missed note.

At the bottom of a deep hole, the creature known as Gill gazes at the sky. He has never been more angry, but then, suffering defeat at the hands of a bumbling former campmate would put anyone in a sour mood.

He had spent the last day trying to climb out, minus the hours-long nap brought about by the exhaustion of...well, trying to climb out.

Gill sits on a clump of dirt that somewhat resembles a footstool. There's no way out. He's gonna be down here for... He slaps his forehead and looks up.

He stands up and closes his eyes. He takes a breath. A long, high rumbling noise emanates from his throat. He fires at the wall of sod. A giant crater has developed before him. He walks inside the dirt tunnel and fires off another loogie. More and more gobs of muck are fired. After a few shots, Gill fires his volley upward. He climbs through to the surface.

With one more loogie, he breaks through the pristine ground. His head pops out and he unleashes a primal scream. He sticks his arms out and, placing his clawed hands firmly on the ground, lifts himself up.

He stands to his feet, letting loose one more inhuman scream. The one who trapped him...the one who defeated him...he will pay.

(...Tara's house...Friday morning...)

Ron's eyes pop open. He sits up in bed. He looks around. He thinks to himself, 'This is not my beautiful room.'

He can hear water running. "Rufus, where are you?" The next sound to greet Ron's big ears is that of snoring. He glances to the floor and finds his naked mole rat, resting on a pile of his clothes. He couldn't very well sleep on the bed. In fact, given the activities of last night...

"Ron?"

...it's obvious that very little sleeping took place in the bed.

Tara walks out of the bathroom, wearing a robe. "Wonderful. You're awake."

Ron looks around once again. "Did we...?"

Tara dries her hair with a towel. "You were amazing."

"Uh, thanks. So were you." The first such experience in Ron's life and he only half-remembers it. Typical.

"It was everything I dreamed it would be." She drops the towel and takes a seat next to Ron.

"That's me; I aim to please."

As Tara walks to her vanity mirror, Ron stands up. "I can't believe this could ever have happened." In other circumstances, they certainly wouldn't have allowed that to happen.

"Neither could I. I mean, I like to think I know what girls want. I'm still not sure if I do."

"Trust me...you knew what I wanted."

Ron arches an eyebrow out of sudden realization. "Oh, man!"

"What's wrong?"

"I need to get home. Mom and Dad will be more than a little curious about a date that lasts the whole night."

Ron gathers his clothes and rushes for the door. "Wait..."

He stops and turns to Tara. "What is it?"

"Don't you want to get dressed first?"

He looks down at himself. "Yeah, that would help, wouldn't it?" He chuckles a bit.

(...Middleton High...a couple of hours later...)

Class has let out a few minutes ago. By now, everyone had made it to their next courses. Kim, however, has the incredible luck to have class on the other side of school. She wanders through the deserted hallway.

She passes by a drinking fountain. Some water sounds good right about now. Kim bends over to quench her thirst.

A shadow casts over her. She looks to her side. It's Josh. No problem. Kim's eyes grow wide as saucers. As it turns out, it is a problem.

"Josh!"

"Hey, Kim." He takes a closer look. "That _is_ you in there, isn't it?"

She sighs deeply. "Yes."

"What happened to you?"

She looks up. "Wait, you didn't already know?"

"I was sick yesterday."

"Well, the night before last, this mutant trapped us at camp 'cause he had a grudge against Ron, who was kind of responsible for what happened to him." Kim doesn't so much deliver the information as she does allow it to spill out hurriedly. "Ron tried to stop the freak, but the muck he held us with turned us into mutants and everyone hates or fears us." She takes a breath.

"That _is_ something."

"And you probably hate me, too."

"Kim, I don't hate you."

"Well, I'm sure you fear me."

"If I was afraid of you, wouldn't I have run away the moment I saw you? And I'm still here."

"True", she said cautiously. Kim would've never imagined that she'd end up as a mutant, even less that she'd be talking with Josh Mankey, the guy of her dreams, in said state...and less still that he wouldn't be repulsed.

Her eyes find him once again. He seems to be staring at her.

"What? What is it?"

He takes her hand. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

(...a classroom...twenty minutes later...)

The door of the room opens and closes. A very out-of-breath Ron collapses against the door. He tried not to be too late, but Tara living so far away from his place plus his parents wanting to know why he was gone all night (a very uncomfortable - but not too revealing - conversation, to be sure) plus not having any wheels equals...a very big problem.

"Mr. Stoppable, how nice of you to join us here."

And wasn't it just Ron's luck that class was already in session?

"Sorry 'bout that, Mr. Adams." More panting emanates from the blonde boy. "Swarm of...locusts...out to get me." Ron continues to breathe heavily.

"'Swarm of locusts'? Given that we are so very far from farm land, I highly doubt that."

"Well...maybe it wasn't locusts, but those fire ants are no laughing matter."

From the sounds of his classmates, it seems that they disagree.

"Yeah. Too bad this isn't California." The educator is losing his patience. "'Fire ants'. I don't believe that!"

Ron catches his breath. "Would you believe killer ladybugs?"

The angry look on the educator's face provided the young man with the answer. In all of this, he wondered about Mr. Barkin. Where could he be?

(...Middleton Park...moments later...)

Even this early in the day, the place was beset by joggers. Two of them pass by a bush, which starts to rumble. One of them - a pretty brunette - looks back and sees the shaking shrubbery. She grabs her partner, who looks behind him...and sees nothing unusual.

The female runner points at the plant. "But it was shaking."

The male is running in place. "Did y'ever consider that you're running too much?" He shakes his head and takes off down the path. She soon joins him.

The bush next to the mobile one starts to shake. A green blur flies towards a tree. There is a phone not a few feet from it.

The creature from the bushes looks around. The glory of a clear coast. Leaving a trail of muck, the entity runs to the phone.

A clawed finger pokes into the coin return slot. It's empty. Out of frustration, he punches the phone. Several quarters spill out. He picks up two of them (50 cent phone calls; inconceivable!) and puts them into the slot. The muscular creature dials a number. It's ringing.

"Middleton High. How may I help you?" A female voice answers.

"Yes, this is Steve Barkin. I'm afraid I won't be making it in today. I really thought I'd beaten this bug, but...it struck back with a vengeance."

"Oh, how terrible. Well, you take care. Get well soon."

"Thank you. I will...I hope."

He hangs up the phone. It's not like he was ashamed of what's happened to him; one wrong word and the offender would be in deep trouble. It's just that...he enjoyed the vacation time. To him, time spent away from the troublemaking students meant time to relax.

Barkin ducks behind bushes; his military time enabled him to think and move stealthily. He rushes back to the lake and dives in.

This was the life.

(...an art studio...ten minutes later...)

"Josh, this feels kind of weird."

Kim lies on a couch, posing with her arms behind her back. The room is desolate but for a young man in a smock standing at a canvas. The palette in his hand contains several colors: blue, purple, orange, green and pink. The latter two were utilized most of all.

"Don't worry so much." Josh is as unfazed as ever as he applies some strokes. "You'll live longer."

"I look like this. That doesn't seem like much to live for."

"Oh, you don't mean that. Besides, I've seen way weirder stuff. My sister, she's studying films at Upperton University. She had to write a term paper on Troma Films and she got me to do research." Josh exhales a bit. "After that, everything's Christmas."

"I didn't know you were an artist."

Josh lets out a chuckle. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

"When did you start?"

"Well, when I was about...four, my dad got me a paint set and I painted a sunset. After my mom cleaned off the walls, I tried again on some paper."

Kim shifts a little. "How much longer is this? My arms are cramping."

The artist applies a few more strokes. "Just about...now. Wanna see?"

The redheaded mutant leaps from the couch and runs over to Josh. She gazes at the painting. It's a stylized portrait of her lying on her side. She's essentially a creature in the picture, but her humanity shows through in her warm expression.

"So, what do you think?"

"It's...incredible."

"It's not the only thing in here that's incredible." Kim is drawn from the picture by Josh's words. She turns to find him looking at her.

He moves his face closer to hers. Her eyes widen; she has an idea of what's going to happen.

"Josh, wait..."

"Don't worry. I've had all my shots."

Her eyes close as his lips find her cheek. He breaks away from her.

She rubs the spot where she was kissed. "Wow."

(...the hallway...ten minutes later...)

Ron stands at his locker and takes out some books. He closes the door and right there is Kim. Her expression is one of slight shock.

"Oh, hey."

"Hey."

"What's wrong, KP?"

"I had perhaps the weirdest experience of my life."

"Weirder than Wednesday night?"

"Okay, so maybe not '_the_ weirdest', but it's definitely top-five. Josh painted a picture of me."

"So, he's an artist. That's not so weird."

"And after he showed me the painting, he kissed me."

"Hmmm. Nah, still not getting the weirdness."

"Ron...!" Whoa. Exasperated much?

"Come on, Kim. You've been mooning over Josh for who knows how long, and now, you're making progress."

"Progress would be so much nicer if I was the right species."

"If you're gonna complain about inhumanity whenever a guy hits on you, then prepare for a lifetime of loneliness."

Kim figures that she may as well change the subject, in spite of the truth in Ron's words. "And just how did things go for you last night?"

Ron cracks his hands. "They went...well; spent a nice night in Taradise, if you get my meaning."

Kim thinks a bit about Ron's words. Her face distorts into a grimace. "Oh! I did not need to hear that."

"Hey. Best friends tell each other this stuff."

"Then maybe we need to have a conversation about the rules of what should and shouldn't be revealed." Kim takes a closer look at Ron.

"What? Something in my teeth?"

"Ron, why is one of your eyes blue?"

She hands him a contact and he opens it. His right eye is brown, but his left is blue...just like Tara's eyes. "Now, that is peculiar."

The Kimmunicator beeps.

"What up, Wade?" The redhead sounds exhausted.

"Drakken's been spotted on Mt. McKinley. The energy signature is off the charts."

"Sounds serious. I'd better get going."

"Are you sure you're up to it? I mean--"

"If I'm not there to stop them, who will be?"

"That's the spirit, KP."

"Let's get going, Ron."

The young man rubs the back of his head. "Actually, I can't. Detention. Apparently, lame excuses in addition to being late can push a teacher over the edge."

Kim sighs deeply. "I'm sure I can handle it by myself."

_"...and the chaos I cause with this machine..."_

(...Mount McKinley...about an hour later...)

"...will be my finest masterpiece!" The cackling echoes within the homemade lair. Mt. McKinley, though the tallest mountain in the United States, wasn't really made for habitation.

Dr. Drakken caresses the giant weapon on his side, while Shego sits with a bored expression on her face.

"Shego!"

"What!"

"Pick a spot in the country. Any spot and it'll be vaporized in mere moments."

"I don't know. Uh, Buffalo, New York?"

"Come now, Shego. Pick someplace lively."

"Hackensack, New Jersey."

The doctor gleefully types on a keyboard.

Shego glares at her employer. "By the way, why in the world are you wearing a suit?"

"Nothing but positive thinking. If you look, think and act successful, then you're bound to succeed in whatever you do."

"Well, one out of three is more than nothing."

_"You know..."_

A voice in the darkness attracts the attention of the evil-doers.

"...my mother used to live in Hackensack. I don't think she'd appreciate that."

"Kim Possible!"

She still resides in the shadows. "The one and only."

Without a word, Shego leaps into action, hands blazing. "Come on out, Kimmie. I'm itchin' to have some fun."

Kim obliges, allowing her new self to be seen. Shego regards herself as a collected person...but even she couldn't stifle the 'WTF?' look that distorted her face.

The young mutant jumps from the rock and meets her opponent.

Shego shakes her head and finds her voice. "Nice look. Let me guess: Sea World is hiring, right?"

"Is that the best you can do?"

"No..." With a running start, the surly hench-wench charges Kim. "...this is!"

Shego swipes her fiery hands at Kim, who matches her dodge for dodge. The elder woman switches to letting her feet do the talking. She lands a couple of shots to Kim's abdomen. Kim collapses a little on the ground. The girl struggles to regain her breath. Shego fires her weapons up yet again and prepares to strike. Kim rolls back and flips forward, taking both villains by surprise.

Her upright status is short-lived; Shego reaches out and scrapes her back, leaving three nasty marks.

Kim looks back at her injury. She then shoots a devious look at Shego. "My turn."

Just as her nemesis had done, the mutant charges at Shego, claws bared. Shego side-steps the attack, but not quickly enough; she finds that there are three claw marks on her stomach.

Shego gasps as she rushes toward the machine, from which Drakken had been witnessing the tussle. The mad scientist seems paralyzed with shock; he's unable to take his eyes off of his foe.

"Hey, Doc." She gives her employer a shake.

He's snapped out of his trance. "Shego, what...?"

"You wanna vaporize something? Vaporize Possible."

Kim advances slightly on the wrong-doers.

"Are you sure? I don't think it would be very sport--"

"Just do it!" Normally, she'd have agreed with Drakken, but the ramifications of how the scarring might affect her overruled that option.

Kim produces a high rumbling sound from her throat. Given the open area of the lair, the reverberations were quite strong. She spits a giant loogie at the ray.

The villains run away as the muck eats away at the machine. Nothing much is left of it, except its metal base, and that can scarcely be of much help in dominating the world.

Shego stares a little at what was once a (potentially) powerful weapon. Her gaze shifts to Drakken, who seems to be giving himself a wedgie.

"What are you doing?"

With a sharp tug, he rips out what looks like a ripped pair of underwear. "The right thing, trust me." He starts waving it around, like a surrender flag.

As Kim surveyed the damage done, she couldn't help but wonder about something: 'I sure hope those underwear are clean.'

(...a highway...a couple of hours later...)

The road is dry, barren, desolate. In other words, not a very good place for a revenge-seeking mutant creature to be.

Gill knew he had to continue on. After all, there was a former campmate to take care of.

His red eyes shift to a sign at the side of the road. He lets out a long groan as he passes it and keeps going.

The green sign, by the way, reads 'Middleton - 28 miles'.

(...the gym...a few hours later...)

It had been quite some time since the squad members had last conversed. They were united by a love of cheerleading; friendship was a secondary concern. So, of course, it would come as something of a surprise to them...

"No...way!"

...that their little excursion the other night might yield some unusual results.

"So, you can really read people's minds?", Tara inquires.

Crystal looks around a bit. "Um, yeah."

"Well, what am I thinking right now?"

The magenta-haired girl closes her eyes and concentrates. _"It's hard to believe that no one's noticed that one of my eyes is brown. Are people really that dense?"_

"Well?"

"Not everyone's so dense, Tara. How _did_ you get the brown eye?"

A nervous laugh from the blonde. "Well, it's kind of a long story..."

"What happened with you, Hope?"

She picks up a part of the bleachers with one hand, startling Liz. "Not too much, really. How 'bout you?"

"I aced three tests. My average was a C-minus. How's that for amazing?"

"How's this?" Hope pumps the seating block.

Maggie rushes over to an empty spot. "I could swear I saw someone here." She turns back to her doubles.

Francie steps forward. "So did I."

Joy grabs onto the original Maggie. "Me too."

_"Don't worry, Maggie."_

The three blondes watch as Marcella fades into view.

"I'm right here. Sorry. I guess I've been having a little too much fun with this." Sure enough, trips to the teacher's lounge and boys' locker room were on her agenda. Her attention turns to Bonnie. She's sitting on a bench by herself, which is odd, since she's often the center of attention.

Marcella walks over. "What's wrong, Bonnie?"

The brown-haired girl's lips are sealed. She turns away.

"Come on. Something happened to the rest of us. Don't tell us you were unaffected."

By now, the whole squad is gathered around her.

"I...I can't..." She's stuck. May as well get this over with. "I can't insult anyone! Everything I say comes out all nice." Bonnie puts her head in her hands and cries.

Tara leans over to Crystal. "It's kind of like Samson without his hair."

No sooner is this comment made than Kim walks through the double doors.

"Oh. I was hoping I'd find you here. You'll never guess what's happening."

The girls look to each other. "I think we have an idea", proclaims Hope.

"No, tonight. There really is a cheerleading competition."

A collective gasp from the squad.

"Now, if you don't want to participate, you don't have to."

"Wait. This isn't some reverse psychology deal, is it?"

"No. I mean it. Given our situation, I can understand if some of you feel a little--"

Tara's hand shoots up. "I'm in."

Kim gives a shocked glance. "Okay, that's one. Anyone else?"

The hands of the girls slowly go up.

"Wow. Well, I guess we should get practicing."

(...the hallway...that evening...)

There was much preparing to do for that night: take a swim, work on a routine, practice it, another swim and more practice. The girls were quite confident at the prospect of winning the match.

The girls stand in the corridor outside the gym. "Well...", Kim states. "...this is it."

Maggie steps forward. "I'm kind of nervous. What if the people, you know, don't like us."

"I don't think that matters as long as we remember the routine and do our best out there."

The squad cheers in agreement.

(...the gym...)

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to yet another cheerleading competition here in scenic Middleton. I'm Vic Romano and with me, as always, is Kenny Blankenship."

"You know, Vic, I remember this one chick who could do flips and splits and..."

"Ah. So your friend was a cheerleader?"

"Well, she was dressed like one, but I'm not sure..."

"Anyway, let's meet our squads. We have the Tapirs from Upperton High, the Lemurs from Lowerton High and, from right here in Middleton, the Mad Dogs."

The crowd stands to its feet with thunderous applause. With that cue, the girls rush inside. Needless to say, the applause dies down with a good look at the squad.

The sound turns to a mix of laughter and booing.

"Well, this is quite a surprise on the part of the Middleton team. This may affect their performance."

"Yeah, like something from _Creature from the Black Lagoon_, or the misunderstood remake, _Creature in the Ba_--"

"Kenny!" Things are getting a bit blue with the commentary. "It looks like the competition is starting. First up, the Lemurs."

As the squad dances on the floor, two of the girls perform cartwheels. Each of them is flipped across by another girl. The 'flippers' act as support as the 'cartwheelers' are boosted up.

The Tapirs, mostly made up of milky-white prep-school types, sit and scoff. They're the type that, afforded the opportunity, would have a cheer consisting of nothing more than 'Upperton. Rah.'

The Mad Dogs, though, have a different take on the performing squad. "That is pretty impressive", observes Bonnie.

"They may be impressive, but they're no match for us!"

The routine ends and the judges converse. "So the Lemurs' scores are: '8.0', '7.5' and '8.0'. Not too bad. Next up, the Tapirs."

The preppy girls flit about the floor with a physicality that betrays their uptight attitudes. Two of them lie on the floor with their legs up and tightly together. They crouch down, allowing two other girls to leap on them. The girls of higher elevation stretch out their arms, allowing a new pair to jump up and balance on their feet.

The Mad Dogs gape at the Tapirs. "A '9.5', a '9.0' and another '9.5'. This will be a tough score to beat for the Mad Dogs."

"Well, let's get going." Kim readies her pom-poms. The squad takes the floor.

The nature of their routine is a sort of line dance, punctuated by flips and handstands. Having finished the handstands, Liz and Maggie leap back onto their feet.

The girls start to form a pyramid. At the base are Hope, Marcella and Crystal. The next highest level consists of Kim, Maggie and Liz and on top of them are Bonnie and Tara. The blonde leaps down and performs a split. Her slight vertigo used to keep her from attempting something like this before.

Tara outstretches her arms and pants breathlessly. The judges again talk amongst themselves.

"And the Middleton team scores a '9.0', a '9.5' and a '10'. That's enough for the Mad Dogs to win!"

The applause which started the competition did not return. It was replaced with the mixture of jeering and booing from earlier.

"So, I guess there's nothing to be gained from first place, huh?"

"This tanks!" Tara, on the other hand, is not very happy. "So what if we look weird? We were the best squad out there. What more do they want from us?"

The doors of the gym fly open. In walks Gill, looking ragged and a lot worse for the wear.

He turns toward the squad. "I'm disappointed. You girls are having a get-together and you didn't even invite me."


	4. Okay, Fine  Be Normal

Chapter 4 - Okay, Fine. Be Normal.

(...the gym...)

Gill faces the scared cheerleaders. "So, you're looking...normal. Soon enough, though, you'll end up just like me. There's nothing you can do to stop this. You may as well--"

The sound of someone clearing their throats garners the mutant's attention. Gill turns around.

The Middleton cheer squad, in all their mutated glory, stands and glares at him.

"Wait, if you're Middleton, then who the hell are they?"

One of the girls steps forward. "We're the Lowerton squad. Please don't hurt us." Gill squints a little at the girl.

"Alicia Paulson? I thought I recognized you."

It's now the girl's turn to squint. "Gil? I haven't seen you since kindergarten! How've you been?"

"Well, you know, I..." Gill shakes his head. This wasn't the time to catch up. He's a half-man on a mission! "Whoa!" He turns to the Middleton cheerleaders. "So...you've changed." He smiles at his joke.

Kim steps forward. "No thanks to you."

"Looks like it's time for me to finish what I started. Where's Ron?"

"Even if I did know, I sure wouldn't tell you."

Gill shrugs his slimy shoulders. "Well, I guess we know what comes next." A high rumbling sound comes from his throat. A gooey blob flies toward the spectators, who start to scatter. More loogies fly through the air, more people duck away.

There's an audible 'whoosh' as the doors fly open. Standing in the doorway is...

"Ron!"

"None other."

He dodges a number of loogies and rushes over to his fellow squad members. They hide behind the bleachers. Hope glares at him. "Where have you been?"

"After detention let out, I got to thinking, 'What about Barkin?'. So, I went looking for him."

"And did you find him?"

"Yeah, in Middleton Park."

"Is he here?"

"Not really. He said, and I quote, 'Don't come back without a cure. This life is getting dull.', endquote."

"Well, that's out of the way. Now, what do we do here?"

Ron thinks for a few moments. He snaps his fingers. "I've got it. Kim, you have the Kimmunicator, right?"

She holds it up. "Always."

"Get Wade on the horn. See if some scientists can't help us. The rest of you, come with me." The girls follow Ron's instructions.

Gill stands panting in the middle of the gym. He is, no doubt, spent from his attacks and the fact that he's away from water.

"Hey, Aquadud!"

The insult garners the mutant's attention. He turns around.

"You shouldn't have come back, Ronnie. You're gonna lose."

"Doesn't matter if I win or lose. As long as _you_ don't win."

Gill puts all of his energy into shots at Ron. The blonde ducks under a bench.

"By the way, you never told me what the password was on that computer program."

"I guess I may as well tell you, given that this is the end: the password was 'swordfish'."

"You see, I'd have never guessed that."

The mutant fires at the bench, but Ron manages to slip away in time. Ron runs past Crystal, who stands with her arms folded.

He shoots muck at her, but, without losing her stance, dodges each volley.

"Why don't you like Ron?"

"Pshhh. Like I'm gonna tell you."

"Oh, you don't have to." She closes her eyes and concentrates on him.

_"Ron is such a wimp. He's got girls fighting his battles. He was practically begging to be teased at camp."_

Crystal opens her eyes. "Oh, that's real original."

"What?"

With a smirk, she runs away. Gill gives chase. He's stopped by Bonnie.

"You know, you're probably not that bad a guy. You just need to..." He runs off. "...associate with some good people."

Gill continues across the gym, but Liz impedes his path of rampage. "You're nothing but a archetypal bully, harassing those weaker than you, when it's really you who are the weak one."

He turns away, only to end up in Maggie's clutches. "What's wrong, Gill? You don't look so good."

Francie and Joy flank the original blonde. "I think he's coming undone."

"Yeah. He needs to rest." The trio carries him to a bench. Just inches away, they stand him up. He takes a step backward and, seeming to fall over something, hits the ground.

Marcella fades into view and gets up from her hands and knees. She high-fives Maggie and her doubles.

Gill looks up at the ceiling. He's feeling a bit exhausted because of the fall and the run-around.

"And now, it looks like the creature is down for the count. The cheerleaders appear to be using diversionary tactics on it."

"Giving you the runaround; that's women for you."

"Right you are, Ken."

Gill's view of the ceiling shrinks somewhat, like he's closer to it. He looks down. He's in Hope's hands. He groans as she spins him around.

Kim crouches on the side clutching the Kimmunicator. "Did you find them, Wade?"

"I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that I've found some of the geneticists. I've given them the scoop and they're on their way."

The redhead pumps her fist. "Yes! Wait, so what's the bad news?"

"They were available yesterday, but I couldn't contact you; slight power failure."

Hope tosses Gill away. He lands on his hands and springs onto his feet. With a gasp, he falls onto the floor. His breathing is somewhat labored.

Tara stands over him. "You know, I should probably thank you for your little trap. Without it, I might never have had the courage to stand up to you."

"Why do you have different colored eyes?", he asks wearily.

"Well, that's a funny story. You see..."

The doors of the gym fly open, cutting Tara off. In steps a number of men in white lab coats.

"And it looks like a group of what appears to be scientists has entered the arena."

"They're wearing white coats. That really makes sense for what's going on."

"Indeed!"

One of the men adjusts his glasses. "We came as soon as we got the news."

The Middleton girls gather near the lab-coated ones.

Kim speaks up. "So, who are you?"

"Dr. Barry Larkin. I specialize in radical genetic mutation. I'd heard from your friend about the situation and found it rather interesting. It's not every day that I run across something like this."

"Will you be able to help us, Dr. Larkin?"

"I believe we can. My team and I took samples from Lake Wannaweep and worked up an anti-serum. There is a chance that you can be returned to normal."

"Wonderful. And what about him?" The redhead jerks a thumb toward Gill.

"Him...he's been like this for much longer than you. It may take some time to cure him."

The doctor's team - two other men and a woman - wheel in a cart with needles and a glowing green liquid.

"I'd like you to meet Dr. DuFine..."

"Hey, there." He gives a slight wave.

"...Dr. Schwartz..."

The woman smiles. "Hello."

"...and Dr. Negrete."

He claps his hands together. "Right, now when do we operate?"

Dr, Larkin whispers to the squad. "We purposely had him mistrained...as a joke."

"If you've got a disease, I'll cure it!"

"Now then, who's the first to be..."

The girls stand anxiously in wait. Ron is a little taken aback. "Are you sure you want to go back to your everyday lives? I mean, you make a pretty kick-butt team."

Needless to say, the girls had their reasons, hidden with a lot of hemming and hawing. Sure, Liz aced her tests, but there was still the nerd factor to deal with. Marcella had to admit that, despite her family's dependence, she missed them. Maggie appreciated having some extra hands, but, at the mall yesterday, those hands got a little too...handsy. She had no idea she might've felt that way, and thought it best not to say anything.

Bonnie...well, she's kind of self-explanatory. Hope liked the strength, but wasn't particularly fond of the whispers that went with it. And as for Crystal...Rich took her home last night and...well, let's say that there are some things that can't be unread, like learning why her underwear ends up stretched out...

Kim puts a clawed hand on Ron's shoulder. "Ron...this is for the best."

"I guess."

(...twenty minutes later...)

The girls stand rubbing their arms, now a mere pale shade of green. That means it's working. Gill, meanwhile, is strapped in a Lecter-style harness. He groans a little.

Ron walks over to Tara, who's sitting on the bottom row of the bleachers. He joins her on the pine.

"Hey, Tara."

"Hi, Ron."

"This has been a crazy couple of days, hasn't it?"

"Yeah. Pretty crazy." There doesn't seem to be much feeling behind her statement, something Ron picks up on.

"So, do you, maybe...want to go...do something?"

"I...You're a great guy, Ron, and..."

"Oh, man. Don't tell me. This is where I get off, right?"

"No! No, no. It's just that...I need some time alone."

Ron looks down.

"Is that okay?"

"Oh, yeah. That's okay." The young man walks away. They both know that it's not.

He walks past Kim, who is conversing with Dr. Schwartz. "So, what you're telling me is that the girls ended up with these comic booky powers because..."

"...because of genetics. God bless the x-chromosome." They both laugh a bit. The slowly regressing redhead walks over to Dr. Larkin.

"I'm curious. Just what was this 'find of the century' that kept you from getting here?"

"It's the strangest thing. In England, there was this Lord who spent his fortune having his body genetically altered...like a primate."

"Wow. Well, stranger things have happened."

Bonnie steps forward. "I suppose we'll need to send a vial to Barkin."

"Yeah."

(...Bueno Nacho...a week later...)

Kim and Ron sit in their usual booth. She suspects that there's something wrong with her life long friend; there's a chimmirito in front of him that hasn't been touched, much less eaten.

"Spill."

"What?"

"What's wrong? Everyone is back to normal. Wannaweep has been shut down and sealed off. I figure you'd have been thrilled."

"Yeah, that's nice."

Kim fires off a knowing smirk. "Tara."

"You got me."

"You should try talking to her. After all..." She winks. "...she's still a part of you."

Ron slams his hands on the table. "You're right." He gets up from his seat. Rufus, meanwhile, polishes off the meal.

(...the streets of Lowerton...)

A van makes its way past a number of similar-looking dwellings. The vehicle stops in front of a house. Out of the van steps a surly looking teenager with dark hair. He's clad in second-hand clothing, mainly because he didn't have anything else to wear.

The young man trudges toward the house, which is bathed in pastels.

He rings the bell. The door opens.

The look on the woman's face gleams with elation. "Oh, Gilbert! Welcome back." She turns inside. "Honey, look who it is!"

A man sitting on the couch looks up. "Gilbert!" The two adults shower affection on the disinterested teenager. He so hated his full name.

"So, where in the world have you been?"

He looks up at his mother. "Out."

"Well, thank goodness you're safe. The trash needs to be taken out."

(...the backyard...five minutes later...)

The back door opens. Gil carries a big bag of garbage. So this was his life. He couldn't go back to Wannaweep; the lake - the source of his mutation...his power - had been drained.

He was both annoyed and strangely relieved by his parents: they had these illusions that their son was as well-behaved and polite as they were. What's more, they didn't really press the issue of where he was and why. As much as their naive indifference ticked him off, he had to admit that the privacy he had was nice.

In school, he seemed like such a smart kid. To engineer such a trap as the one at Wannaweep, he'd have to be. Unfortunately, he was the type more content to squander his intelligence on delinquency.

The lid of the garbage can is removed. With a sigh, Gil puts the trash inside. He looks up and catches sight of a blonde girl over the fence. Her hair is done up in an elevated ponytail.

He approaches the fence. The girl is resting on a lawn chair. He clears his throat; talking to pretty girls wasn't really his thing. Except for a bunch of captive cheerleaders the other night, this was something of a slow decade.

No response from her. He tries again, but louder. The girl sits up.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself."

"You new in town?"

"Yeah. My family moved here a couple of weeks ago. I've never seen you, uh..."

"Gil. With one 'L'", he adds under his breath.

"I'm Marie. Marie Crane." She stands up and walks toward the young man, their eyes locked the whole time.

"You really shouldn't mumble when you speak." Marie puts her hands on the fence.

The young man rubs the back of his head. "Your hair looks stupid like that."

Gil hated to admit it, but maybe the squeeb was right; maybe he did need a girlfriend.

(...Tara's bedroom...that night...)

"Thanks for having me here, Tara."

Ron sits on the blonde girl's bed.

"Well...you know, it's no big deal. I just wanted to thank you for saving our lives."

"Oh. Heck, Tara, any guy would've done the same."

She sighs deeply. "I'm just glad we can put this whole mess behind us."

"Yeah. Hey, why don't I get us some sodas?"

"Thanks. I'd like that."

(...the kitchen...moments later...)

Ron was glad for the time he had to himself. Rufus was at home with the folks, most likely having dinner or a rest. As much as Ron liked having the little guy around, he didn't want Rufus talking him out of what he was about to do...

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a vial...filled with a murky green liquid.

_(...the gym...a week earlier...)_

_Ron had just finished talking to Tara. He passes by Dr. Negrete, who stood near the cart of needles and liquid._

_"So, uh, you have your scientific...stuff arranged neatly, huh?" He played the naive rube to a 'T'. Olivier couldn't have done better._

_"We certainly do", replied the doctor._

_"Would you also happen to have some of the water from Lake Wannaweep?" Ron motions to Kim. "My associate and I know of some people who might want that analyzed."_

_"Well, we could send it to them ourselves."_

_"But it's no problem. If you can't trust me, who can you trust?"_

_Dr. Negrete thinks about it. "You're right." He reaches down and pulls out a vial containing murky green liquid. _

_"Are you sure?" Ron was a little nervous about doing this, and his statement reflected that._

_"It's no problem. We've got plenty. I hope that the sample remains safe."_

_"Oh, don't worry, Doc. This will definitely end up in the right hands."_

(...the kitchen...)

Ron empties the last of the vial into a cup of root beer. He grabs two cups of soda and heads upstairs.

Unethical? Perhaps. Desperate? Maybe. Insane. Most assuredly, but one can never predict how life will end up.

It's like the saying goes..."Never be normal." He chuckles a little at the wild night to come.

After all, how the hell else is he gonna get his other eye back?

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A/N: Before anyone asks, I hold "Sink or Swim" in the highest regard. Even so, I thought it would be fun to spin it off in this insane direction. Please forgive the disjointedness...unless you didn't notice it, in which case, what disjointedness?

There were two other purposes for this tale: One, as an antidote to some of the wrist-slit-lit I've ran across the KP section. I just can't get it out of my head. And two, as a giant middle finger to "Return to Wannaweep", which tried (and failed horribly) to add wackiness to the "SoS" template.

Thanks for reading and reviewing and have a nice day.


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